


Sunset

by counterheist



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, smarmy old men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is changing, but that doesn’t mean Spain and Romano have to change with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zieb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=zieb).



It is generally agreed upon that Earth is dying, but Spain doesn’t like to think about any of that. So he doesn’t. Instead he thinks about the things he always has: what to get at the market, when he last changed out his sheets, what to make for dinner. There is something solid in routines, and as the seasons change Spain loses track of things until one day he notices how his clothes hang a little too loosely. His arms ache a little more when he carries boxes full of mishmashes of old documents and freshly-signed shuttle papers. He quickly forces himself to stop seeing any other changes.

So he doesn’t see any other changes.

Romano sees every single goddamned one, including how his clothes are now too tight, but he won’t say a word as long as Spain won’t. No need to underscore things Romano doesn’t like. Because the world is almost entirely change, these days, they end up not saying much of anything when they sit together. And it’s fine. By now the words are superfluous.

The sunset is redder now.

“Romano,” Spain says, “I’m cold.”

Aren’t they all.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about that, dumbass? Get a blanket or something.” Romano huffs from his chair, and draws his own blanket close around his shoulders. Well. As close as his stomach will allow. Maybe he should steal Spain’s hat too, to protect from the wind. It’s always so goddamn windy. “Don’t bother me.”

Spain bothers him anyway. Not by jumping into Romano’s lap, as he would have before, but by slipping next to Romano, wriggling until the chair fits them both, more or less, and sighing. Spain’s legs are stacked on top of each other uncomfortably, because Romano refuses to budge and make room, and his side is awkwardly pressed into the chair’s wide wooden arms. In a few minutes his left arm will probably start to numb up. But now he has the edge of the blanket, and soon he’s got it over one of his shoulders too, and that’s still victory. Spain’s front is still cold, as is Romano’s now that it isn’t covered, but his back is warm.

Luckily for Spain, Romano cannot be bothered to retaliate; it takes too much energy. “Bastard,” he breathes in Spain’s direction, “what did you have to do that for?”

Spain pinches Romano’s side instead of answering. And, when Romano finally grabs the hat from Spain’s head, Spain pretends not to sense the difference while he snakes his arm around Romano’s shoulders, under the blanket, and stares up at the lowering sun. He feels the wind on his face and can’t imagine being anywhere else.

It is generally agreed upon that Earth is dying, but Spain doesn’t like to think about any of that.

**Author's Note:**

> [Go here](http://zieberich.tumblr.com/post/25355625936/alas-young-people-these-days) for what they’re [supposed to look like](http://zieberich.tumblr.com/post/25395577270/personally-i-just-blame-kixboxer-and-her)! I was intentionally vague on why the two of them weren’t eternally 25 and 23 anymore, but I hope that didn’t detract too much. This was supposed to be sweet, ahh….


End file.
